


Ghostverse

by vivisectvi



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Original Work
Genre: Alternate Reality, Arranged Marriage, Cults, Demon Hierarchy Dynamics, Demons, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, LGBT Themes, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Obsessive Behaviour, Original Fiction inspired by the band Ghost, Other, PTSD, Polyamory, Religious Themes/Symbolism, Satanism, Stockholm Syndrome, Supernatural Elements, Transphobia, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivisectvi/pseuds/vivisectvi
Summary: (Fiction inspired by the lore of the band Ghost but incorporating many original elements, headcanons and plots by me.)Linköping, Sweden. Deep between the mountains, stands a massive church building which at first glance seems abandoned, but once one enters, they shall find themselves inside Lucifer's leading church on earth, Hell Clergy.Copia is a demon/human hybrid, and the story follows his rise to fame, from a young and reserved child, to a devoted demon priest, and then to a successful rock musician.He and his band of 7 ghouls, along with his hot headed human secretary, Fujimoto, have been given their most important mission so far: Spread the religion of Satanism to as many humans as possible, with the way of music.That way, Copia can finally rise to the position he always dreamed of, and become Pope of Hell Clergy.It may seem simple at first, but everything is going to turn around as soon as an old flame long thought to be gone, Azariah, also known as Papa Emeritus III, the leader before him, returns full of envy and rage, willing to do anything in his power to destroy Copia, and take over Hell Clergy for himself.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Aether Ghoul, Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus III (past), Daisuke Fujimoto/Jeremy Park, Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil/Sister Imperator
Kudos: 1





	1. CONNECT THE DOTS — PART 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisuke "Fuji" Fujimoto is a 27 year old podcast creator living in Japan, with a big interest in anything paranormal and otherworldly. After his mother's sudden death, he finds out that he has inherited a house in Sweden. Very interested, and longing for change, he decided to make this very important trip to see what this is all about.

CONNECT THE DOTS - PART 1

**April, 2018.**

__

_"I'm sure most of you didn't know this, but the popular and century-old children's song "Ring a Ring o' Roses is actually about the Black Plague. The lyrics "Ashes, Ashes" are commonly thought to refer to the cremation of bodies, as well as the burning down of houses formerly occupied by the diseased. It could even refer to the ashy color of the victims' skin due to the sores they got from the disease. I would elaborate further, but i'm sure you can look it up if you're interested. Now, on to our usual intro!"_

__

_"Do you ever think about it? So many planets, so many possibilities of the existence of something beyond our comprehension, but more than 68% of our world's population believes there's no existence of extraterrestrial life. So you truly believe that all those planets, all those galaxies and milky ways and you name it whatever you want, are barren?"_

__

_"Humans. They always want to make every single thing about themselves. We're the ones who have done it all! Fear leads us on. But what if, what if there was something else, far, far closer to us than we could ever have imagined. Do we make peace with it, or do we engage? How powerful would it be though? Such things keep one up at night, I would know. Are you one of these people? Do you want answers to your questions about the universe that surrounds us, and maybe even the supernatural aspects of it? Do people perhaps call you a "tinfoil hatter?" Well then, you've come to the right little corner of the internet. This is Daisuke Fujimoto, your friendly neighborhood podcast host, and I welcome you to Answering the Unknown!"_

_"Today's subject, which we shall get right into after a message from our sponsor, is going to be conspiracy theories about the Medieval age, which is pretty much the reason why I brought up the children's rhyme earlier. Now, I'm going to begin with......."_

.... 

He sighed as he hastily removed his headphones, carefully positioning them on his desk, careful not to bend the microphone attachment.  
Slowly trailing over to the nightstand, he grabbed his water bottle, taking a long sip, mouth now tasting of lukewarm water that had been opened more than 5 hours ago.

The room was truly and simply, a mess.  
He had pretty much not touched anything in over a week, as his sleep schedule was completely ruined and he woke up at decidedly ungodly hours of the day.

Pushing aside some clothes and notebooks from the bed, he flinched as he heard the hard cover hit the ground and make a slight bouncing noise.

He gave a glance to his tiny little bedroom, as this would be the last night he's sleeping in it.  
_"Thank God."_

He muttered to himself as he put his folded glasses on the nightstand, almost knocking down the water bottle.

Fujimoto hadn't slept that early in months, maybe even years, but tomorrow was a rather important day so he had to rest as much as he could.  
2 suitcases laid under his desk, containing mostly his recording equipment, a few clothes, as well as a few bits and bobs that definitely wouldn't be useful but his job wasn't exactly known to be the best paying so he pretty much had to cram in as much as he could.

"23 fucking hours of nonstop travel..." he muttered as he rubbed his face, glancing at his Osaka to Stockholm online tickets.

That was it for tonight. Tomorrow, a brand new beginning awaited him. Not wanting to overthink too much as he always did, he turned the light off, and the only thing illuminating the room was his phone screen buzzing with unanswered texts, as well as the shiny white letters of the "I Want to Believe" poster that hung right above his bed.


	2. CONNECT THE DOTS — PART 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teen and their mother say their final goodbyes before the get separated forever.  
> The only thing the young person has to remember her by, is now a black and red velvet cape, and her sweet freckled smile. After that day, they’ll find it hard to trust anyone again.

**September, 1985**

****

****

They fiddle with their fingers anxiously, their chest rising and falling irregularly as they try to compose themselves. They wiped their eyes with a trembling gloved hand, a stinging sensation overcoming them from the saltiness of their tears.  
They pull back a strand of strawberry blond wavy hair, pulling it back and over their pointed ear, their multiple bronze earrings shining.  
“Cara mia, is everything alright? Please let mama inside. I don’t want you to act like this. Please.”

The teen coughs, trying to compose themselves as they uncurl from the corner of their room that they were sitting at, and they slowly go over the door, opening to see their mother with an expression she never had before. Giovanna’s angular face didn’t have its usual bright smile, a somber expression replacing it instead, her dark ginger eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at her daughter.  
“I’m not angry at you, mom. I’m angry at myself. And dad. Why the hell is he doing this to me??”

“Raff, please, I thought you understood that me and your father are doing this for your own happiness and safety on top of everything.”  
Giovanna said with her usual soft tone as she put her hand on Raff’s shoulder, snd sat down on the bed, patting the space next to her.  
The teen sat down as well, instinctively brushing their long fringe out of their face yet again.  
“There we are..” Their mother said yet again, as she looked at them.  
Their mismatched eyes were bloodshot and narrowed. The black, tattoo-like marking around them made stand out even more.  
“Where you’re going now, you’ll never have to hide those beautiful eyes of yours, cara mia..  
You deserve to be loved and understood, and to grow up at a place where you’ll never be considered inferior from others. My world has nothing to offer to you, Raffaela.”  
They flinched as they heard their full name, swallowing hard, however they felt immeasurably calmer than before.  
“This world is cruel and judgemental towards what they don’t understand, and you know that now better than everyone.”  
Raff nodded to themselves, as they rubbed their bruise littered arm.  
“Your father loves you, and I love you more than everything in the world, you know that.”  
“Yeah mom, I.. I love you too…”  
Giovanna hugged them, pulling them close to her, as they silently cried. 

“I don’t want to leave you, I’m not ready, I’m not ready..” They wanted to say, but it was too futile now.  
They knew that staying here for longer would get them gravely injured, or even worse.

The dainty little village of Calabria that them and their parents were living at was one of the most beautiful places in Italy, they thought.  
Not that they had gone to too many places. Raff was not the most extroverted person.  
They usually spent their free time at home, drawing or making horrible noise on their guitar. They got it for their 16th birthday from Dad, a few months ago. They had begged to start lessons for years and it had finally happened.  
They loved to sing. They sang everything, from Abba to church hymns. It was hard not too, considering how religious their family was.  
That was the main reason they weren’t welcome in Calabria anymore. Or anywhere close, for that matter.

The young teen’s father was a clergyman, but not an ordinary clergyman.  
Belial Hymnus was a cardinal, and a member of The order of Lucifer.  
When Raff was a bit younger, one of the many stories Giovanna loved to tell them, is how she and Belial met.  
Like Romeo and Juliet, the teen recalls.  
Belial, an archdemon (Raff was about 11 when their parents told them all about what all this means, and who Lucifer, their wise leader, was.) and Giovanna, a human woman.

It was 1965. or ‘66? Raff scoffed. They heard the story so many times that it seemed strange to them that they could not recall every single detail.  
Cardinal Belial would travel, and he travelled a lot. This is what his work consisted of.  
He would visit many branches of Lucifer’s church on Earth, and check to see if operations were running smoothly.  
Once, he had to travel to Italy. Passing through many beautiful picturesque locations, he found himself in Calabria.  
In a crimson red tattered hooded cloak, he passed through the rainy streets, side eyeing the weary locals.  
A bunch of yelling and cursing came to his attention.  
Three muggers had cornered a young woman.  
Having visited almost half the world, Belial was used to altercations like this happening, but he had never been quite so close to one.  
His gaze narrowed. What should he do? A voice inside him told him to ignore it and tend to his important business. But the poor girl looked terrified. She was scrawny and short, and the thugs were massive.  
Even a demon realises that this is an unfair power balance.  
Before anyone could realise, he stormed in, so quick that he was almost invisible. The lead man was holding a dagger, and Belial then realised that the confrontation was never to be peaceful.  
He looked up from his cloak, his mismatched white eye glowing intensely.  
One of the men started backing away.  
“lui è uno di loro….” He yelled to the others.  
The leader’s eyes widened, and he switched off his blade, as he signaled to the others, all running away.  
The woman was still backed against the wall, her wide eyes staring right at the tall figure that had just saved her life.  
“It was unfair. You had no chance against them.”  
She started to retreat, her rain-dampened books held snugly to her chest.  
The man looked away, a slight sadness to his eyes.  
As he started to walk, she spoke.  
“Hey! Uh, you. Thank you. So much.”  
She said, rushing closer to him.  
“ _Scusa_ , um, sorry, my english is not too great, but I have to express how grateful I am. My name is Giovanna.”  
She gave him an unsure smile, her italian accent strong as she spoke in english. Her ginger hair was slightly wet from the rainfall, and almost came down to her waist, however it didn’t look ungroomed.  
Her face was beautifully and uniquely sharp, her cheekbones and dimples almost mesmerising to look at. They were faint in the early morning’s lighting, but her freckles brought everything together.  
“You’re a traveler.”  
“That is indeed true.” Belial said, flustered. He too had an unidentifiable accent.  
He usually did not pay attention to human women, but this one was surely something. Women, and humans in general, always reacted like the three men from before. They saw him and ran away.  
“The rain is not stopping anytime soon. In fact, it will get stronger this time of day. I’d uh, really not mind if you come over the house until weather is cleaned up for you!”  
“Really?”  
“It is least I can do for the interesting, uh, _sconosciuto_ who saved me.” She chuckled.

Raff was a spitting image of their mother. At least that is what relatives told them.  
They hadn’t taken much from their father.  
Not his dark, almost black brown hair, nor his thin, serious features or angled nose.

_Not his markings._

What they had though, were the eyes.  
There was also the Curse. If Belial had the ability to read their mind, he would yell at them. Their ability was not a curse!  
But how else would you call the power of Decay and Illness.

A firm knock on the door took them out of their daydreaming.  
“Sweetheart! I think we should be going by now. Let’s not let it get too dark outside.”  
Belial’s deep, gravelly voice was heard from outside.  
Raff looked at the cape they held in their gloved hands.  
The outside, a silky black. The inside, a velvety red, the same color as the roses in their mother’s garden.  
They undid the clasp that held the cape closed, a bronze colored pair of ornate bat wings, and pulled it over on themselves. Looking at their cabinet mirror, they gave a half smile.  
“Coming, dad!”

“Woah, you look beautiful love! Is that mom’s old cape? now you look just like a true demoness.”

They did like that comment. Maybe that’s what was meant to be.  
Lastly, they picked up the case of their guitar.

Off to a new life then.


End file.
